Apparition
by Lady Cheshire
Summary: After he is wounded in battle, Faramir finds himself in a familiar place. "Hope's light is always near, Captain Faramir. Just open your eyes."


  
  


When I was a young boy, I was given a sword to play with. 

It wasn't any grandeur piece of weaponry, hardly any of the sort, but merely a poorly forged piece of scrap metal with a wooden hilt. Do not be fooled, though; it could still inflict damage. 

My brother was a few years older than me at the time, and had just plunged head first into what was the glory and splendor of adolescence in Gondor. 

I felt slightly intimidated when they told us to duel, but I knew Boromir would never have hurt me, and me hurting him was a very unlikely prospect. Still, we gave one another a respective handshake and began. Of course, Boromir won that small challenge quickly, and it was decided that I should face other opponents until I was fit to meet Boromir's standards. As I soon faced other children my brother's age, my tutors, and even other soldiers, I found to my horrified curiosity I knew exactly what to do. 

Every spin, thrust, pivot, and jump I had full knowledge how to maneuver. Including where to turn, where to strike, and how to get my opponent to forfeit. I knew when someone was behind me, as I could feel my opponent's strategical thoughts. I knew how to handle a weapon, and I could kill. 

That was not my wish. I did not like the idea of taking lives, just because I could. So, I laid down my sword. To me, it was a weapon of defense, and nothing more. But I didn't have long to wait before I had to pick that sword up again . . .   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It took half a moment's time for him to realize what had happened. Perhaps a normal man would have not noticed at all, but Faramir was observant and keen on his surroundings, and he knew that the silence he felt now was not natural to be hearing. It was the sound of a calm and eerie wind swished by his ears, jumbled with the far, far, away sounds of Imrahil's yelling and the echoes of violent hooves against barren, black, fields. 

_Hold on!_

Something told him in a hushed whisper that died further away even as it spoke. Lethargically, Faramir grabbed at the sides of his saddle, and only managed to unhook his foot from the stirrups as he fell to the ground. Faramir landed with a harsh 'umph' unheard to himself. 

He made an effort to swallow a painful feeling in his throat, and managed a cough, the next best thing. He saw Imrahil out of the corner of his eye, running to meet him, and Faramir knew everything would be all right if he just closed his eyes. . . . . .   
  
  
  
  


The young man was sitting by a stream, watching in silent meditation as the cold and welcoming crystalline waters rushed by his bare feet. 

Faramir watched him for several minutes in curiosity. He knew this boy . . . but from where? 

As if hearing his thoughts and thinking them ridiculous, the boy turned his head and met Faramir's gaze, prompting a surprise jerk on the captain's behalf. The boy didn't catch it, instead he smiled and rolled his eyes. 

"There you are!" said the boy getting up and brushing the grass off of his legs. "I've been looking for you everywhere!" Faramir moved away slightly in confusion. 

"I'm sorry, young lad. You have mistaken me for another." 

The boy folded his arms impatiently, and sighed as if to humor him. 

"Oh really? Well then, if you're not my little brother, then just who are you?" he said in a gently mocking voice. 

Faramir couldn't help but smile. "I'm Captain Faramir . . . who are you?" he asked, still smiling. 

The boy ignored the question and began laughing. "Well, if you're a captain, I must be a Lord." Faramir was vexed, and showed it by contorting his face. 

"What's your name, young sir?" The boy rolled his eyes again. 

"I don't know what you're playing at, but I suppose the only way I'll find out is if I play along as well, eh? . . . My name is Boromir. What's yours, young sir?" the boy asked, grinning. 

Faramir's face fell suddenly. It was Boromir! His ruffled sandy hair, his rough, stubborn face lighted with a laughing smile. And while the figure of his brother was still small, he was showing definite signs of growth and masculinity. He was alive, and Faramir wanted nothing more than to hug him, and kiss his head a thousand times and tell him about proud of him Gondor was, and how much his father missed him, and how much he loved his older brother, but Faramir didn't move. 

His feet was rooted to the earthly emerald ground. "Race you to the tower, captain!" cried his brother, suddenly running past the stream and through a field of weeds. 

"Boromir, wait!" yelled Faramir through the tears he didn't know he was crying. "Come back, Boromir, please!" cried Faramir in anguish. 

"He can't hear you, you know." a gentle and small voice behind him. Faramir looked over his shoulder and turned around. Halfway into the stream, another small boy was wading . The boy looked strikingly similar to Boromir, only his hair was a good deal darker. . . black, in fact, and his features on his small face were softer. Faramir looked at the little boy with tears in his completely confused eyes. 

"What?" was all he could manage. 

"He's lost to you now, but you are not lost to him." the boy said, folding his arms. "I don't understand. . . " Faramir trailed off. 

"You have just bonded with your brother for only precious minutes. Only, that bond cannot exist, because you are of two separate times. But never fear. If I know him . . and I do . . . you'll be seeing each other quite often . . . you just need to know where to go." the boy added with a sweet smile. 

Faramir looked at the boy void of any expression for a moment, and then gave a sigh of frustration and began rubbing his head. 

He couldn't dabble in this hallucination of unconsciousness. He needed to get back to his men. He'd already lost a third of them.   
"Where are we?" Faramir said, taking in his lush surroundings. Odd. . . it looked hauntingly familiar. 

"Sorry, that I could not tell you." 

Faramir sighed. "Can you tell me your name then?" 

The boy suddenly became intrigued. 

His eyes glistened with a wild curiosity, and a small, unsure smile crept along his young lips as he stepped closer to Faramir.   
"Do you not recognize me then?" 

Faramir peered at the little boy with hard concentration, trying to conjure any memory of him, and at all. And then he looked into his eyes, and a cold realization beheld him. 

"No. . . no! 'Tis a mad fever . . . you cannot-" Faramir's legs gave out, and he fell to his knees in the shallow waters of the crisp stream. 

"I am." said the boy firmly. "And you are as sane as I." 

"But. . . but you told me-" 

"I told you Boromir was lost to you. But you cannot lose me. Not now, now that you've come so far without shedding me." There was a long silence. 

"Am I dead?" Faramir asked in hoarse whisper. 

The boy shook his head. "Nay, captain. But you are quite close," the boy eyed him, a little probingly. "Even. . . you should not be here at all. But a message you must bear in your mind, no matter how it may deteriorate in time, Captain Faramir. Do not lose hope yet, for it is very near. All you can do now, is secure its light and make certain it's glow is preserved. Do you understand?" Faramir nodded his head dumbly, not comprehending at all, though. The boy smiled sadly at him. 

"Your brother is proud, and so are your parents." 

Faramir gaped at him. "My mother?" the boy nodded. "Father. . .?" the boy's face made an odd cringe as the child's mood turned grim. 

"He is fond of you, and yes, proud. But his mind has been depleted by grief. Beware of him, young sir." 

Faramir's face betrayed his confusion, but the boy ignored it. 

"Faramir! Come along!" shouted Boromir, both of them looked over to where the voice had come from. "If I have to be tutored, then you do too!" 

The boy looked at Faramir with melancholy sadness. "I must take my leave. . . and you as well must go." 

The boy turned to leave, but Faramir stopped him. 

"Wait!" 

The boy faced him again, curiously. 

"Will you ask my brother to visit me often, please?" asked the elder Faramir. 

The boy smiled. "He will. I needn't ask him. You are, after all, his younger brother. He will always guard over you." 

Faramir acknowledged this with a soft smile and a nod. "Tell him I love him, please." he said, feeling hot tears streak his face and reveal his grief. 

The boy nodded. "He knows. . . he knows." 

The boy gave Faramir a kiss on the brow and then on both cheeks. 

"You've always honored us. And you always will." 

Faramir bid the boy farewell with sorrow, and the boy waved at him as he walked towards his brother, the infamous gentle smile on his face. The two brothers joined hands, and their merry voices of delighted laughter slowly eroded away from Faramir's ears, as he sat hunched in the stream, choked by tears. 

After the brothers had disappeared, a bleak and dense fog rolled in around Faramir, and the shadows of the Black Breath engulfed him. 


End file.
